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by by Kimberly E. Allen
Here we go again. That time of the year when I try to shed my childhood silliness. I walk fast through the cluttered retail stores. I am a serious woman, full of purpose, goal-oriented, clutching a Shopping List. I'm the kind of lady who has no time for peering in cute windows. The ones with laughing Santas, Rock-n-Roll Santas, rap star Santas, and just a plain old traditional Santa, standing next to his equally round wife. I intentionally peruse a copy of Newsweek at the check-out stand to avoid all the hanging candy canes, sparkly red and green socks, Rudolph blinking-nose key chains, and little plastic manger scenes featuring the Made-in-China Jesus.
Three years ago I frantically searched the internet for reasons to ignore tinsel, tree lights, wreaths, carols by The Chipmunks, and poorly made top-of-the-tree Angels. I found several websites dedicated to "Should You Celebrate Christmas?" After all, some see it as ridiculously pagan, commercial, and a distortion of the true meaning of Christmas. I learned how the Christian celebration of Christ's birth originally took place on January 6th. In late Roman history, Emperor Constantine changed the date to December 25th to offset the Pagan's feast of Sol and Victus. So there you have it! Good reasons to stick to the basics, like cooking, attending Church services, and reading the story of the birth of Christ to the Sunday School class.
False Piety
I called my mother and informed her I desired no "Santa" gifts. I informed her I am a mature Christian, and I don't buy into that retail hype. She politely agreed that the true meaning of Christmas should never be obscured. She also agreed that we should not spend so much money. Satisfied, I started to hang up when she asked, quite seriously, "Now, would you object to any Frosty the Snowman stuff? I did find some cute Frosty items on sale."
I purchased warm sweaters and sweatshirts for family members, some note cards, and my Dad's favorite Egg Nog. I drove to eastern North Carolina on Christmas Eve. I was satisfied, for once, that I made it a season without "giving in." I wore a plain white blouse and black pants. No extra frills, no extra stick pins or dangling light bulb earrings.
"Hey everybody!" I balanced three bags, four wrapped gifts, two corningware dishes, and a gallon of Egg Nog. I am greeted by Mr. and Mrs. Claus. Incarnate. A Santa hat flops over my dad's head. My mother is wearing candy cane socks, a red sweater with green glitter and stitched reindeer. The fireplace mantle serves as Santa Land and a toy train filled with small packages and elves encircles the artificial tree. The television station is advertising eight consecutive hours of "A Christmas Story."
My mother hands me a huge metallic bag with a red ribbon. I peep inside and thank her for the largest stuffed Frosty the Snowman I've ever seen. After dinner and coffee, we sit in quiet contentment. Mounds of ripped paper and torn boxes cover much of the hardwood floor. Dim lights and candles soften the room. We rest before preparing to go to Church.
It is Christmas Eve in America. Beneath the pine needles and the paper, there is a story. The story is, after all, what pulls it altogether. The story transcends culture, customs, our time and space in history. Throughout all of Christian history, it is evident that God works in culture. God meets His people where they are, whether that be in early Jerusalem and Rome, or 21st century America. Our local customs do not have to be the focal point, but I've discovered that if I go to the opposite extreme, I walk around as a bitter, self-righteous, totally useless vehicle for Christ. The joy is replaced with false piety.
Salt and Light
I'm learning to take the customs with a grain of salt, with a smile, a polite nod, and with grace. I laugh at animated Santas and move on. I look at the heart behind the gifts I receive. I think of my dad's genuine smile and simple faith. I think of my mother's kind gestures and delicious meals. My parents take time, every year, to create a warm and inviting house. The table of fellowship is set with meticulous care and creativity.
Christians are to involve themselves in all forms of lawful human activity. By acting in accord with Christian values they will become salt (a preservative agent) and light (an illumination that shows the way) in the human community (New Geneva Study Bible copyright 1995 New King James Version p. 1889).
If we are to be salt and light, we must interact with our present-day culture. It doesn’t mean we embrace idolatry, or false worldviews. It means when we find ourselves in the midst of brothers and sisters, or nonbelievers, who do embrace their customs over Christ, then we are to be the light.
You are the light of the world. A city that is set on a hill cannot be hidden. Nor do they light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a lampstand, and it gives light to all who are in the house. Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works and glorify your father in heaven" (Matthew 5:14-16).
A Life Hid in Christ
So back to Frosty the Snowman. And animated Santas. Can we live among these little man-made idols? Well, I think the proper question is not can we live among them, but we can we live in spite of them?
I think we can not only live among them, but we can laugh at them, at our own silliness, our own hangups, and then move on to more important things. Such as fellowship and joy with our loved ones. Such as peering into other people's hearts. Such as loving our friends and family, not criticizing all of their actions and obsessions.
Maybe we should begin in our own hearts. What part of my life is not totally His? Christmas in America. A fine place to be if we are His.
"Your life is hid with Christ in God" (Colossians 3:3).
~ Kimberly E. Allen lives in the North Carolina mountains with her pastor husband Tommy. She currently writes articles and essays for various publications, and is also writing a novel.
Related Reading:
Countering Consumerism
Teaching Teens About Christmas
